


Boots

by Viridian5



Category: Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: Episode Related, Humor, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-24
Updated: 1999-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Berg makes an effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "Two Guys, a Girl, and the Storm of the Century." Pete and Berg are not mine. If they were, I'd make them dress up as Sonny and Cher more often (I watched that promo with my jaw _dropped_. Berg was so cute as Cher...).
> 
> Is this more like it, Te? She's responsible for the footwear.

As Pete sat on the couch eating soup, he tried not to think of all the recent ways he'd been proven wrong. He kept failing. One, the storm had been a real storm, not the wussy drizzling he'd predicted. Two, Berg hadn't wanted to be saved and especially not by him.

//Why would he? The whole world is throwing itself at him. Only he could walk out into what was almost a monsoon and not only survive but also get a date with the weathergirl he'd gone out there to find. Why would he care that I worried myself sick and risked my life to go after him? We're just roommates.//

"I'm almost done," Berg yelled from his bedroom.

Pete had no idea what the hell he was doing in there. "Take your time."

"I bought thigh-high boots."

Oh, no. Pete remembered the horrendous, giant, knee-high yellow rubber boots Berg had just bought. The thought of him wearing things that had to look even worse made Pete wince.

"Why? You said they made you look--" Berg stepped out, and Pete glanced over. Then he stared. His mouth went so dry that his last word sounded like a ghost of itself. "--chunky." These boots sure as hell didn't.

These weren't the thigh-high fisherman's waders Berg had originally mentioned. These were skintight black leather laced all the way to the top, making Berg's legs look even longer. //They're so _tight_. Don't they hurt?// Pete could see a little pale thigh above them, then black bikini briefs that let him see the outline of everything in that package. He shut his mouth before he could start to visibly drool. The tight, long-sleeved black shirt above it didn't quite match, but he could hardly fault Berg for that.

"Accessorizing this getup is a pain," Berg said before he straddled Pete's lap. He took the bowl from Pete's unresisting hands and put it on the table.

//He can't-- He isn't-- Please...// Pete could barely think or speak through the low roll of lust shooting through him. "What-- what the hell are you doing?" he gasped.

Berg leaned forward, his dark eyes shining in his fox-like face. "I know what the problem is." Before Pete could respond in the negative, Berg _moved_, effectively silencing him. "I do. The problem is that I do these stupid things. You know I'm smarter than that, but I do them anyway." Pete nodded; he couldn't do anything else. "Then you worry and try to save me from myself, and I don't appreciate the effort. Hunh. That's two problems. But I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes," Pete squeaked. This was _such_ a bad idea, but he couldn't help stroking the boots //Nice leather, _good_ leather...// with the occasional, unintended //yeah, right// caress of even warmer Berg-skin as an accident. Really.

"Well, I'm not going to stop doing stupid things." Berg smiled ruefully. "My enthusiasms just overwhelm my good sense sometimes. I can't help it. But I can let you know that I do appreciate you and everything you do. You risked your life for me."

As Berg nuzzled his neck, Pete felt his pulse pound through his body. It hurt how much he wanted this. But he managed to gasp, "This is just a pacifier, something to make me shut up without you having to fix the problem."

"That's not what I want to put in your mouth."

Pete's hips bucked just at the words. But: "What about--"

"I'm attracted to my weathergirl. I don't know what the hell it is I feel for Ashley. But I know what I feel for you."

"And what is that?" The long, slow kiss stole the last of Pete's mind, not to mention his air. //I understand enthusiasms overwhelming good sense. Oh, hell yes, I do. After I take the edge off, I want to unlace these myself.// "What's with the boots, though? _Not_ that I don't like them. A lot."

"I _had_ to make you forget the sight of me wearing those yellow things."

### End


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